


Daddy

by gallifreyanlibertea



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Age Difference, Dadfred, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-27 23:29:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13258863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gallifreyanlibertea/pseuds/gallifreyanlibertea
Summary: One could say Arthur frequently babysat Mr. Jones' daughter, Amelia. Arthur didn't, however, frequently call Mr. Jones a name one usually reserved for a relationship more... intimate.





	Daddy

**Author's Note:**

> Someone requested for Arthur to call Alfred "daddy".

“I’ll be back in two hours-or-so, but Amy usually sleeps early so if I’m late, you can just break into my fridge and use my Netflix account,” Alfred said, and Arthur smiled in response. “Does that sound good?”

It was the same thing every time, really. Arthur had babysat for his next door neighbour for what felt like years- he’d practically seen Mr. Jones’ daughter grow up before his very eyes. This was nothing new to him, so he found it just a tad bit annoying to hear the whole thing all over again, but he supposed he understood.

Alfred Jones was a busy man, balancing work, a social life and a very demanding young daughter all at once,  _alone,_  and Arthur supposed it made sense for him to be nervous.

So it was Arthur’s job to make him feel better. He smiled a bit wider, politely, opening his mouth for an affirmative answer.

He just wished his answer could’ve been anything but the one that actually tumbled out of his lips. “Yeah, sounds alright, daddy!”

Oh my God.  _He did not just-_

Alfred turned as bright a red as Arthur felt, clearing his throat, and  _oh my god, Arthur, what the fuck!_ “Uh…”

Arthur wanted to die.

He absolutely, positively, very much needed to die right at that very moment. He needed to spontaneously combust. Something needed to happen so he didn’t have to look at Alfred for any longer. Arthur chewed the inside of his cheek, “Um- Amy, come say goodbye to daddy before he leaves!”

Nice thinking, idiot.

At least the, albeit painful, smile on Arthur’s face made it seem intentional. Amy ran up from behind his legs, throwing herself at her father. “Bye, daddy!”

It was cute when she said it, and considerably less cute from Arthur, he figured. It would balance out somehow. 

Alfred smiled, hoisting her up with a grunt to kiss her cheek. “Bye, baby, I’ll be home soon, okay?”

And with a strange look in Arthur’s direction, Alfred was gone, and Arthur wanted to disappear.

Where the  _hell_  had that come from?

Arthur chalked it up to his phone call with his own father that morning, it had been months since he’d spoken to him, perhaps that was it! It couldn’t be the conversation he’d had with his acquaintance, Francis, earlier that day, right?

The more Arthur thought about it, the more it most definitely was.

“So movie?” Francis had said, and Arthur scowled.

“I told you, idiot, I have to babysit. I wouldn’t watch a movie with you even if I didn’t, anyway.”

God knew why Francis was at his house. He had just let himself in, charming his way past Arthur’s mother until he was on Arthur’s bed, lazily scrolling through his Instagram feed.

He perked up at Arthur’s response. “Babysitting for your hot neighbour?”

“He’s nearly twice our age, Francis, don’t be gross.”

Besides, Alfred’s personality cancelled out anything remotely hot about his physical features. God, he was boring, and coming from Arthur, the insult had some weight. The man didn’t drink, he hadn’t smoked weed-  _not once!_ \- in college, he had spent all his extra-curricular classes in high school taking AP science courses… Alfred was such a nerd, it was insane.

Arthur remembered bringing his calculus homework along with him once as he watched over Amelia.

“Calculus, huh?” Alfred had said as he grabbed his coat, “What’cha working on?”

“Integrals.” Arthur had said absent-mindedly. “God, they make no sense.”

“I’ve actually got a little trick for doing those-” And Arthur had remembered wondering how anyone could remember to even  _pronounce_  ‘integral’ after high school much less know how to do them, especially seeing as it had been a solid decade or so since Mr. Jones had taken the class, but Arthur hadn’t minded the help.

Come to think of it, he hadn’t minded having Alfred bend over Arthur’s shoulder, finger tracing Arthur’s worksheet as he talked in that smooth voice of his, wearing that nice, silky cologne of his. Arthur hadn’t minded it at all.

But Alfred was a nerd, and that was that.

He was a slightly attractive nerd, maybe, and Arthur had voiced the possibility of it, to which Francis had grinned. “He’s hot.”

“Shut up.” 

“Come on, Arthur.” Francis pressed, and he found the matter important enough to sit up, tossing his phone off to the side. “The man is a classic  _daddy.”_

“What?” Arthur made a humoured noise, a snort. The word was quite ridiculous in itself- especially in the current context- made even worse by Francis Bonnefoy’s thick French accent.

Francis’ eyes went stern and Arthur’s smile melted. “Have you honestly never thought about it?”

No, Arthur hadn’t.

Well… He cleared his throat. Arthur supposed maybe once or twice he’d taken a mental note of how well Alfred looked in formal wear.

“Date?” Arthur had asked sometime two weeks ago and Alfred had glanced up from running a lint roll vigorously over his suit jacket.

He’d worn it with jeans, but Arthur deemed it formal enough.

“Yeah.” Alfred had said abashedly. “My friend set it up.”

“Good luck, mate.”

“Any tips?” Alfred had asked and Arthur laughed for a bit before realizing he actually expected Arthur to say something.

“Oh.” Arthur had pursed his lips. “I don’t really do the date-stuff.”

“Why?” Alfred had said with genuine worry, “Young, British teen like you, I’d think the high school chicks’d be all over you!”

 _Perhaps, but not the lads,_ Arthur wanted to say. “My mum wants me to focus since it’s senior year.”

“Ah, I remember being eighteen,” Alfred said with a laugh and it was like a splash of cold water because, for a minute there, he’d forgotten Alfred Jones was the single father that lived in the house next to his.

For a minute there, Alfred Jones was some guy Arthur went to school with, and it was weird, because Arthur didn’t like that one bit.

He quite liked the single father that lived in the house next to his.

“I suppose he’s a bit cute.” Arthur had said, words coming out of his lips as thick as concrete, and Francis raised an eyebrow.

“He’s more than that,  _mon ami._  Take a good look at him.”

Francis was just being perverse as usual, but Arthur really did take a good look at Alfred Jones. He’d done it as the man had spoken to him that evening, the same words he’d always said but somehow, they were different this time.

It was different because- and Arthur admitted it to himself as Alfred had posed the question  _“does that sound good?”_ , smile pressing dimples into his cheeks, the bluest eyes Arthur had ever seen regarding him for an answer- 

Alfred Jones was a daddy.

And then, he’d gone and said it, quite possibly ruining whatever event Alfred had gone to that day. He’d gone and said it twice.

Well, thrice now, if he ever remembered how to speak English enough to choke out an apology for it. Mr. Jones returned hours later with a shy smile, unknowing to the internal battle Arthur had sat through in his absence. “Sorry it took so long.”

 _Just make the apology._  Although, would it have been so bad if he pretended nothing happened?

Arthur watched wordlessly as Alfred patted his pockets for his wallet. “I’ll pay extra, sorry for the delay.”

“Th- no, that’s alright, Mr. Jones.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Arthur said, and Alfred fished out two twenties. “How was your evening? Another date, was it?”

“Yeah, he was nice, it went well,” Alfred said, and he was smiling so Arthur smiled as well, just politely, pocketing the cash. “It helps that I was in a good mood. I didn’t know I was, what kids call these days,  _a daddy._  It was a nice boost to my self-esteem.”

Needless to say, Arthur was not smiling anymore.

“Mr. Jones, I need to apologize for-”

“It’s fine, Arthur, you should get going, it’s late,” Alfred said with a warm smile that Arthur tried weakly to return.

“I really am sorry!”

“It’s fine,” Alfred said, and he patted Arthur on the back reassuringly. A warm, large hand that lingered between Arthur’s shoulder blades, slipping ever-so-slightly to the middle of his back and Arthur’s inhale was sharp. 

“I kinda liked it.”


End file.
